Pancakes
by Crowley For King
Summary: Sam asks Cas to help him make pancakes. Hilarity ensues.


Sam stumbled into Bobby's spacious kitchen and blindly jabbed a finger at the power button on the coffee maker, now incredibly glad that he'd taken a few extra moments before going to bed the night before to set it up.

As the percolator bubbled to life, he turned and took down the only recipe book the old man owned and turned it to page 43. The page was littered with dry batter and dark spots and in a few places the ink was worn right off the paper. Not that it mattered, he knew how to make pancakes by memory alone; the recipe was more of a safety net in case he screwed up and forgot something, which, at this hour of the day, wasn't exactly unlikely.

He'd just pulled a large glass bowl from the cupboard when the familiar sound of incorporeal wing beats filled the room and a gust of air turned a few pages of the recipe book.

"Hey, Cas." Sam greeted with a small smile, trying his best not to look like he'd just crawled out of bed and was still only half conscious. Although that was hard to do when he was still barefoot and wearing plaid pyjama pants and hadn't so much as run his fingers through his hair to tame it.

But, as expected, Castiel didn't even seem to noticed and returned his smile with a tiny one of his own.

"Hello, Sam." His eyes fell to the large bowl and a small frown drew his brows together. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," Sam scratched at the back of his head, "Uh, making pancakes." He chuckled.

"Pancakes?" The angel repeated curiously, doing that little head tilt thing that made him look more like a puppy and less like a Warrior of God.

Sam felt laughter bubbling up in his throat at the thought but managed to keep it behind his grin. "Yeah. They're delicious. Wanna help me make them?"

At the question, Cas' face smoothed and he actually looked a little nervous. "I'm afraid I've never cooked anything before. I would likely be more hindrance than help."

"No way! Come on, you're never too old to learn something new." Sam insisted, hoping the angel would help. He didn't see how this could be anything less than hilarious and Cas was working his ass off trying to keep things in heaven from exploding out of control and he just wanted to give him a moment of fun and, god forbid, maybe even get him to laugh.

"Alright." Said Cas eventually, his tone wary. He came to stand beside Sam, approaching the counter as if he was sure some evil monster was about to burst from the weathered cupboards and attack him.

"Cas, relax." Sam laughed, finding the other man's apprehension endearing. Here was a guy, an _angel_, who spent all of his time fighting heavenly battles, saving their asses and was an endless fountain of archaic knowledge and here he was, swallowing nervously when Sam handed him the electric beater.

"What is this?" Cas asked, nervousness immediately replaced by his insatiable curiosity in the face of a new human oddity. He was closely examining the beater, blinking when the power chord slipped from where it was been wrapped carelessly around the handle and uncoiled itself, the plug striking the floor at his feet.

"It's an electric beater." Sam pulled milk an eggs from the fridge and set them on the counter. "You have to stick the beaters in those two holes and then it mixes the batter for you."

"I see."

The percolator had a steady cloud of steam billowing out the back of it and finally gurgled to a stop, the pot full of the bitter, black and sometimes life saving liquid. When Sam pulled a mug from the cupboard by the sink, he remembered Cas standing beside him, not paying attention but flicking the intensity switch on the top of the beater with an intense frown.

"You want some coffee?" He asked the angel.

He was surprised when Cas responded without hesitation, even a hint of eagerness. "Yes please."

It seemed that he'd discovered something the angel enjoyed enough to break his concentration, which was saying something, since past experience had taught him that when something piqued Cas' interest he focused on it with an intensity that was, well, inhuman. One only had to observe the angel when Dean was around to learn that.

But Cas had set the beater down on the counter without a second thought and came to stand closer to Sam as he fixed their coffees. He let Cas tell him when to stop pouring milk but gave him a dubious look when he'd scooped in two spoonfuls of sugar and Cas made no move to stop him.

"Two more." He was told and he felt his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

"Like it sweet, hey?" He laughed; he never would have guess Cas would have a sweet tooth.

He continued to be surprised after he'd handed Cas the mug and the angel brought it to his nose and inhaled a long pull of the scent – eyes sliding closed, fingers curling around the porcelain cup – and hummed low in contentment before finally taking a sip.

"I didn't know you liked coffee." Sam said at length, mentally shaking off the shock of seeing Cas being so emotionally open when he was used to seeing nothing but a blank mask of indifference.

He was fixed with a stare over the rim of the mug, still held close to Cas' face so he could inhale the aroma, blue eyes actually dancing with mirth. "I do not _like_ coffee, Sam. I _love_ it."

That got him laughing, delighting in this new, unguarded side of Castiel that he'd never seen before. He was pretty sure he'd never even seen Cas being this open around Dean and it made something warm swell in his chest and he was filled with the sudden desire to get the angel to smile some more. So he turned back to the counter and clapped his hands.

"Ok! First things first. Grab that canister there, the big one, and measure out one and a half cups of flour into this bowl." He pushed the large glass bowl in front of Cas and handed him the measuring cup, which he took hesitantly, and he pointed out the markings on the side of the cup. "So one cup is here and the half is here. Put in one each."

Cas did as instructed while Sam cracked two eggs into a separate smaller bowl and then put some butter in the microwave to melt. When he turned back he burst out laughing.

To his credit, Cas had gotten what looked like the correct amount of flour into the bowl, but had since abandoned the entire endeavour in favour of pulling a handful of flour out of the canister and examining it like it might hold the answers to all his troubles.

However when Sam laughed, the angel gave a start and sheepishly dumped the flour back into the canister, getting half of it on the counter. He brought his hand close to his face and blew the remaining flour from his hand, watching as it exploded in a white powder cloud before settling.

"Ok, so next we need to add the baking powder, sugar and salt." He explained, voice wobbling with suppressed laughter. He pulled the required ingredients from the cupboard and handed the little bundle of measuring spoons to Cas.

It took him several moments to explained why they could not put more sugar in than what the book instructed but after a small argument, in which Cas insisted that sugar could only make things better, Sam finally consented to letting the angel scoop in two more spoonfuls before they dumped the mixture into the wet bowl and Sam dug out the beaters and showed Cas how to attach them to the handle.

"Ok so now put the beaters in the batter and flip the switch to the first setting."

Cas blinked up at him owlishly. "I think it would be wise if you handled this part of the process, Sam, I am unfamiliar with-"

Sam was shaking his head, pushing the beater back into the angel's hands insistently. "Nuh uh, Cas."

"Fine. But if something goes wrong, remember," Cas fixed him with a pointed stare, "I warned you."

"It's not that big a deal, Cas, just relax. Come on."

Cas pushed the switch to where the little number '1' was marked and one second later Sam felt the sticky mixture hit his face like goopy rain.

He cautiously opened his eyes when Cas killed the switch and he was sure no more batter was coming and immediately spotted Cas, still holding the beater in the bowl, eyes wide as he stared at Sam.

The hunter was numbly shocked to note that Cas' face was clear of any batter and his sense of shock faded and his eyes narrowed.

But when Cas bit his lip and turned away the shock was back. When the angel's shoulders began to shake the shock was replaced with outrage.

"Are...you are _laughing_ at me?!" He cried, disbelieving that the first time ever he'd seen the angel laugh and it was at his expense.

He grabbed Cas by the shoulder and spun him around and the angel tried in vain to hide his smile by pressing the back of his hand to his mouth but the crinkling around his eyes and the fact that he was half double over as he tried _not_ to laugh out loud made it pretty obvious.

"I'm sorry!" Cas choked out, finally giving up on trying to hide it. "But I _told_ you!"

Sam supposed he was right and the angel _had_ warned him that it might be a bad idea for him to operate an electric appliance but for god sake it was only an electric beater, he'd been sure someone who routinely performed intricate rituals and had once offered to draw him a mathematical diagram to explain angel radio would be able to-

"It's fine." He said finally, even grinning a little as he watch Cas continue to struggle to keep the smile off his face. "Maybe we'll just stir it with a fork."

"Why did we not try that first?" The angel asked right away and if he wasn't mistaken Sam was sure he could detect an undertone of annoyance.

"Because this is _supposed_ to be easier!" He responded, ejecting the beaters into the sink. "Here." He pushed a fork into Cas' hands. "Even you can use this."

It looked as if the angel had a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue but refrained from using it at the last moment, merely cocking an eyebrow and pursing his lips as he did as instructed. Sam busied himself with melting some butter in the frying pan and by the time it was coating the bottom of the pan, Cas walked over and thrust the bowl of now perfectly mixed pancake batter under his nose petulantly as if to say, '_see, I can do human stuff_'.

"This looks good." Sam praised, earning the barest of twitches of Cas' lips. "Ok so next we just pour it into the pan in reasonably sized portions and try not to let it burn."

As he carefully tipped the bowl and measured what seemed like a good amount into the pan, Cas suddenly reached up and pushed the bowl over farther, dumping a third of the batter into the pan all at once.

"Cas!" He cried, righting the bowl before all of it ended up in the pan and fixing the angel with a wide eyed what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look.

"Dean will want a large one. He always wants big pieces of food." This was said with a perfectly straight face but whether Sam was getting better at reading the angel's microscopic tells or Cas was just getting worse at hiding them, it was obvious the action had been retribution for the insult on his ability to operate simple human machinery from a moment ago.

He held out the spatula with a smirk. "Fine then. You make them."

"I don't want to."

"You said you'd help me." Accused Sam.

"Yes and so far _I've_ done most of the work." Cas gestured to the frying pan and the batter that was now making loud sizzling noises. "_You_ do something."

He was left momentarily speechless as he suddenly realized what it was that seemed different about the angel. Castiel's facial expressions were animated and when he spoke his voice rose and fell. He seemed overall more human, more natural, more relaxed and more...himself. He was so used to seeing the angel with a cool mask of indifference and speaking in a monotonous tone that it was a little strange to see him so relaxed.

But a moment later and he was grinning, glad that Cas trusted him enough to let down his guard and be himself around him.

Speaking of which, the angel had just sat down at the table, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest as the hissing noises from the frying pan grew more and more angry and Sam heaved an overly dramatic sigh and turned to flip Dean's ridiculously large pancake.


End file.
